


Merry and Bright

by SomeoneAsGoodAsYou (the_wanlorn)



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Wishes, Everyone being soft babies, F/M, Mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 04:17:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17155160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_wanlorn/pseuds/SomeoneAsGoodAsYou
Summary: Lucifer spends Christmas with the Deckers.





	Merry and Bright

**Author's Note:**

  * For [namedawesome (davethetennant)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/davethetennant/gifts).



> Merry Christmas!! I hope you like it. :D

Chloe stifled a yawn and stretched in her seat, wriggling around a little to work the kinks out of her back. They were four hours into this stakeout, waiting for the perp to come back to where he was supposedly living, and she was ready to go home.

"Getting tired already, Detective?" Lucifer asked from his place in the passenger seat. "The night's still young!"

"It's two am," she pointed out, and he gave her a look of incomprehension. "I have a kid, Lucifer. Two am is late."

He gave her an "if you say so" look before returning to watching the front door of the building. He looked relaxed, like he was just enjoying the time spent with her. It made her heart flutter if she thought about it for too long. But he looked relaxed, which meant that maybe now was the time to ask-

"What are you doing for Christmas?"

He jerked and turned toward her again, the surprise on his face quickly fading to the shuttered look he got sometimes. She had known that was what would happen — that he was going to brush her off — but she couldn't help feeling disappointed. He would probably be enjoying a private party at Lux, and uninterested in spending time with her and her "grubby offspring". She regretted bringing it up, and was about to change the subject, when he spoke, his voice carefully level.

"If you think I'll be celebrating my half brother's birthday, you're sorely mistaken, Detective."

She blinked at him. Right, his half brother, because Christmas wasn't actually a secular holiday. Still...

"That's not really the point of Christmas anymore," she said, glancing to him before focusing back on the building's front door.

"Of course, it's about showering friends and acquaintances with poorly thought-out gifts, is it not?" He sounded less flat, more willing to engage with the idea of Christmas, and she took it for a win.

"It's about spending time with family," she told him, eyes forward so she didn't have to see his reaction. "And giving gifts — you're right that it's commercialized now — but it's mostly about spending time with family."

She could feel his confusion in the air and sighed. "I'm trying to ask if you want to come spend Christmas Day with us, Lucifer."

Silence filled the car, an oppressive weight that fell around her shoulders like a cloak. She shouldn't have asked.

"I... If it's for spending time with family, surely I would be intruding," he said slowly, like he was feeling through the conversation but not certain of where it was going.

Her gaze snapped to him and she studied the confusion on his face, the way his brow was furrowed and his lips slightly downturned, his eyes fixed on his hands in his lap while he tried to puzzle through what she meant. Sometimes he made her want to tear her hair out. Almost four years, and he still- How could he not know? How could they spend so much time together and he still not know?

Unless he was trying to gently let her down, of course. Maybe that was what he meant. He would be intruding because he didn't consider them family, didn't consider them that close. It hurt to think that, but it was probably the most likely possibility.

Still, she couldn't stop herself from muttering, "No, because you're family," then saying louder, "Ugh, never mind."

She thumped her head back on the seat and watched as a woman came out of the building's doorway. Not the one they were waiting for. She headed down the street toward the bodega on the corner, not a very interesting destination, so Chloe turned her attention back to the door. The car was silent again, but it was less thick this time. Tinged more with frustration than with dread.

Before she could say something, apologize for bringing it up, the perp they were waiting for came around the street corner.

"There he is," Lucifer said, like she could possibly miss him in the throngs of people filling the empty sidewalk.

Then the guy made eye contact with her as she was getting out of the car, turned, and started to run. Damn it. Lucifer took off after him, with her close behind.

* * *

The Detective was sitting at her desk, filling out the report on their latest stakeout and the lowlife sleazeball they had brought in for questioning. Unfortunately, the man hadn't known anything about the weapons dealing, even when Lucifer applied a little extra persuasion to the questions.

He watched her from around a corner, unable to get their earlier conversation out of his head. He knew he had made her angry, although he wasn't quite sure how. Was it really his fault that he hadn't realized she would want him over for Christmas Day? It wasn't as though she had ever invited him before, not even back when things were... better between them. Back before she knew.

She looked up and met his gaze, and smiled a small, private smile for him. The one he treasured because she didn't seem to smile it at anyone else. It was something just for him, and he wanted to box it up and keep it in his pocket to take out when he was feeling particularly out of sorts.

It was a foolish desire, almost as foolish as hoping that if he went to the Detective now, she would still invite him to spend time with her and her spawn. The offer was rescinded; she had probably meant it when she took it back and asking if he could come anyway would be too close to begging for comfort. If there was one thing he'd never do, it was beg for scraps of attention from her. No, better to wait from afar for her to notice him and dole out what time she decided he was worth.

Still... He couldn't help but feel he would be missing something important if he just let it go. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

With his mind made up, he strode to her desk and leaned against the edge, giving her his most charming smile.

"What did you do?" she asked with a sigh after glancing up at him. He blinked, a little taken aback. That wasn't the reaction he was expecting, and it threw him off his game a bit. He opened his mouth to respond, but cut himself off before he could start stammering.

When he was certain he wasn't going to fumble his words, he asked, "What time should I be there?"

She looked up at him for longer this time, smiling that special smile again. He could feel it warming him, like the sun on a lazy day at the beach. He didn't even try to stop from returning it with a gentle smile of his own. He must look absolutely besotted with her in moments like these.

"Breakfast is at nine," she told him. "Or you can come just come for dinner around three. It's completely up to you."

This presented a dilemma. He wasn't... He didn't want to infringe on their family time, no matter what the Detective may have said. It wouldn't be fair to them. But if she was offering breakfast, that meant he would be around in time to help with dinner. Perhaps that was a good enough reason to do what his heart wanted and be there as soon as possible. That way she didn't have to spend the day cooking and could spend it with her daughter instead, and he would be... He would be on the margins, which was good enough for him.

* * *

A thump in the front hall was Chloe's first indication that Lucifer had arrived. It was quarter of nine and both she and Trixie were still in their pajamas. Time had gotten away from her, and while she had gotten the cinnamon roll dough out of the fridge, she hadn't actually managed to get them in the oven yet. Breakfast was definitely going to be late, but she and Trixie had only just finished opening presents — more Trixie than herself — and surely Lucifer wouldn't mind hanging out with them for a while.

"Lucifer?" she called when he didn't immediately come to tease her about her candy cane pajamas. When she looked up, he was standing in the door, a huge box next to him with a smaller box on top — both wrapped in elegant snowflake wrapping paper — and in retrospect they probably should have talked about what appropriate gifts were beforehand. It was too late for that now, so instead she focused on the small smile on his face and the soft look in his eyes.

Trixie looked up from the book she was engrossed in and grinned one of the widest grins Chloe had ever seen on her face. "Lucifer!" she cried, and got up, barreling over to slam into his legs like usual. He grimaced but didn't immediately try to detach her or send a pleading look Chloe's way.

"Good morning, Spawn" he said. "I've come bearing gifts."

"What'd you get me?" Trixie asked. Chloe pushed herself up off the floor and walked over to inspect the presents. She was kind of dreading whatever was in the big box. It was almost as tall as Trixie was.

"Who says I got you anything?" he asked, but Trixie just gave him a withering glance and pointed to the tag taped to the corner of the child-sized box.

"That has my name on it. I can read, you know."

"So you can," he said, and glanced to Chloe. She mouthed "What's in it?" but didn't manage to decipher whatever he mouthed back. Oh well. It was definitely too small to be a pony, and that was what mattered.

"Can I open this now, Mom?" Trixie asked, staring at the box with glee in her eyes.

Chloe glanced at Lucifer, who shrugged, so she nodded to Trixie. "Go ahead."

Lucifer handed Chloe the present that had been sitting on top the box, and she squished it in her hands. Something soft was inside. She didn't hold it up to her ear to shake, but only just. She watched Trixie tear into the wrapping paper covering her box and bit by bit a box for the three hundred dollar dollhouse she had wanted appeared.

"Lucifer, that's..." she started over the sound of Trixie's shrieks of joy.

He looked almost anxious as he rushed to say, "What better use of my money than spoiling people, darling?"

"How did you even know?" she asked. Trixie froze for a minute, and her attention turned fully on her daughter. "Trixie..."

"Don't be cross with her," Lucifer said quickly. "I did ask." She sighed, but before she could reprimand both of them, he was taking off his suit jacket and rolling up his sleeves, and she lost a minute or two to watching his arms flex. "Now, I don't smell any breakfast, I'll just go get that started, shall I?"

He tried to sneak past her, but she caught his sleeve and stopped him short. "You're not escaping yet. I still haven't opened my present." As she talked, she carefully peeled back the tape on one end of the present and pulled out the softest blanket she had ever felt. She immediately dropped the paper to be added to the mess of wrapping paper already on the floor and rubbed her cheek against the blanket.

"Oh my G- Oh my," she said, nuzzling into it. Lucifer was watching her with a tiny, pleased grin on his face and something unfathomable in his eyes.

"Your sofa blanket is beginning to look a bit threadbare," he said, as if his gift needed an explanation.

"Thank you," she said, stepping into his space. She wasn't sure what she was planning to do, but whatever it was got interrupted by Trixie throwing herself at Lucifer again to hug him.

"Thank you thank you thank you!" she said, grinning up at him. "It's _perfect_."

"I'm... glad?" he said before disentangling himself from her. Chloe just watched, a healthy dose of amusement tinging her smirk. "Now why don't you and your mum go set that up, and I'll get started on a little breakfast?

"Everything for the cinnamon rolls is on the counter," she told him, before herding Trixie back into the living room. "Time to pick up the wrapping paper, Monkey."

* * *

Lucifer was stood in front of the counter, having just finished rolling out the dough, when the Detective and Beatrice came into the kitchen. That had been quick. The Detective came up to stand next to him, her arm brushing his as she inspected his work. It was flawless, and he knew it, but still he found himself getting unaccountably nervous until she smiled at him and nodded.

Beatrice dragged a chair over and climbed up onto it, kneeling on the seat and pulling the bowl with all the components of the filling toward her. She carefully started cutting the butter into chunks.

"What are you doing?" he asked, and he wasn't sure which one of them he was asking more.

"Helping," Beatrice said. "We always make breakfast together." She frowned for a second, seeming suddenly sad, but shook it off.

Lucifer turned to the Detective, question in his eyes, and she said quietly, "Dan and my mother are usually here, but he had to work and Mom's at a shoot."

He bit down the unkind words he wanted to say about both of them. If Christmas was for family, then where were they? He was a poor substitute; they both should be here, and he should be at Lux. He barely even liked Beatrice.

Tolerated. He barely even _tolerated_ Beatrice.

"I can take care of this myself," he said quietly, focusing on the dough before him. "You don't have to help. You and Beatrice can go relax. I'll-"

"Lucifer," she said, just as quietly, reaching up to turn his face toward her. He easily went, meeting her eyes and briefly getting lost in the — not _love_ , but a similar gentle emotion — that filled them. "What part of spending time with family don't you understand?"

He turned away quickly. Beatrice was putting the filling in the microwave, and he let his eyes track that while his mind spun and whirled. He had thought maybe that it had been a mistake, what she said the other week, about Christmas being for family, about him being a part of her family. But this... it unsettled him. An embarrassing amount.

He was theirs, he knew that. He had, perhaps, belonged to Chloe from the moment he met her. But back then, he hadn't known that devotion came, not from someone owning you, but from you giving yourself to them. That being _someone's_ could be a choice, could feel right, could feel like home.

But he also knew, just as deep in his bones, that they weren't his. He could never lay claim to them, and he had accepted that a long time ago. So he didn't understand why they were being like this. And it just kept on like that, all day long.

They just kept... it felt almost cruel, like they were playing at being a family even though he was just a second-choice replacement for Daniel, and they didn't realize how much it affected him. How much he wanted this to be real. They even gave him _gifts_ : a drawing of the three of them standing together on the beach from Beatrice, an expensive — and very soft — scarf from Chloe. Because she knew he got cold on stakeouts during the winter, she explained unnecessarily.

By the time the night was winding down, dinner put away and nothing but dishes left to do, he felt like his shoulders were up around his ears with tension from all of the family things they had him doing. He wanted too much, and he knew nothing good ever came of wanting. Not for him.

While they stood together, doing dishes -- Beatrice in the living room and out of hearing range -- he finally brought up what had been bothering him all day, saying, "You don't need to do this," quietly, almost hoping the rush of the water would drown out his words.

"Do what?" Chloe asked absently as she scrubbed a pan. "The dishes?"

"No," he said and sighed in frustration. "This. You don't have to... include me like I'm... You just don't have to do this."

"Like you're what?" she asked, her hands slowing as she half turned to look at him, brow furrowed in puzzlement.

"Like I'm a bigger part of your lives than I am. Like I'm-" He almost said "someone special to you" but bit it off at the last second. "Like I'm not the Devil. Like I'm someone you can just-" He made a frustrated noise and stopped washing, gripping the edge of the counter and squeezing until his knuckles turned white. He didn't know how to explain to her the confusion he felt deep within himself. How to explain that this just wasn't something he got to have. He was never meant to have a family, not after the first one threw him out like so much trash.

* * *

Chloe slowly put down the pot she was trying to get burnt on meat juice off of, her heart breaking. She dried her hands on a towel and turned toward Lucifer, leaning a hip on the cabinet underneath the counter as she looked at him.

She'd seen him growing more and more tense as the day went on, but chalked it up to nothing more than a desire to get out and away from their domesticity. She was prepared to give him an easy out the moment he started making hints about taking one. But he never did. He just endured, his jaw ticking occasionally, and even seemed to be having fun. She wasn't quite sure where she had gone wrong in explaining to him what was going on, but she could try again.

"You realize you're ours, right?" she asked, watching the way his hands moved over the plate he had picked up to start rinsing again. "And we're not letting go of you any time soon, so you need to suck it up and get used to it."

His hands faltered and the plate slipped out of his fingers, clattering back into the sink. He gripped the edge of the sink, knuckles white, and she thought she might have heard it groan under the pressure. If he broke their sink, he was buying a new one, and she was going to get to pick it out. He let out a single hard breath, not looking at her, and she started to feel like she'd made a mistake.

So she tried to walk it back. "Is that... not okay? I mean, I know you have issues with- but I don't mean it in a literal sense, just an... emotional sense, I guess. I just mean we'll fight for you, if we have to. We're just as much yours, at least I hope we are."

"I didn't know," he said before she could continue digging her hole, his voice so quiet that she almost missed it. "I never- You can't- I'm not-"

Oh. "Well you do now," she said, and, "I can," and, "You are." Even though she knew the answer would be no, she said, "You know we love you, right?"

He stared at her, eyes glittering, and didn't say anything. Of course he didn't know. How could he? He had spent so long alone and unloved that she doubted he even remembered what it felt like, to love someone and be loved in return.

So she smiled at him, and touched the back of his hand, carefully sliding her fingers between his until his grip on the edge of the sink loosened enough for her to pull his hand up. He was smiling back at her, the same soft smile on her face echoed in his more tremulous expression. She gently pulled him toward her and stepped into his space, before letting go of his hand so she could carefully put her arms around him and draw him into a tight hug. He wasn't fragile, but he had been broken and had sloppily glued himself back together and sometimes she worried the glue wouldn't be enough. So she hugged him and hoped she could hold him together long enough for him to be able to fix himself.

* * *

Lucifer had always thought that belonging to someone — belonging to another person, his soul being owned by them — was nothing but pain. That belonging to someone was like being torn apart, his very being smothered into nothing under the weight of their expectations. He had thought that it would always be a burden, be something that he didn't want. And even before, even with Chloe, it had been a burden of sorts, knowing that yet again, it wasn't a two-way street.

But this... This was like a revelation. He'd never felt this sort of intense devotion before, not willingly. He'd never chosen it, never thought he would want to. And yet, in that moment, with his Detective — _his_ , because he can say that now, she's given him tacit permission — knowing that they belonged to each other, he wouldn't change a single thing. In that moment, she was his whole world, his entire universe, his sun and moon and stars and absolutely everything, because she was his too.

And oh, how amazing it felt, to be someone's like that. To be someone's and know they were his, too. To know that the Detective was just as much at his mercy as he was at hers.

"Are you guys gonna kiss?"

It took a minute for the voice to register, for him to pull his gaze away from hers and look over to where Beatrice was standing in the doorway. Chloe started stammering, not quite denials, but he was confident he could do this now, confident that she wouldn't turn him away, that he was _hers_. So he put his hands on her face and pressed his lips to hers, letting the gentle touch linger, keeping the kiss soft and tender. Chloe sighed into his mouth, her hands going to grip his biceps, and if it hadn't been for the little urchin in the room, he would have kissed her forever.

But Beatrice was standing there, watching them, and he knew it would upset Chloe if they made out in front of her, so he backed off a little. Her eyes were watery when she looked up at him, swimming in unshed tears. His weren't much better, and he had to blink hard to banish them.

"Yeah!" Beatrice cheered as they stared at each other. "Santa _is_ real."

"He most certainly is not," Lucifer said without looking away from Chloe.

"I asked for this for Christmas when we went to see Santa at the mall," Beatrice said, just as stubborn as her mother.

Chloe started to laugh, then, smiling and happy. She hugged him to her once more, and he gladly buried his nose in her hair for a moment before pressing a kiss to her head. Beatrice giggled before running off to play more with her dollhouse, and Chloe leaned back just enough to be able to smile up at him, her face open and free from worry.

He had lit the stars, and not one shone as brightly as he was sure they both did in that moment.

The End


End file.
